Living Standards
by Heroic Panda
Summary: University was the next step in Arthur's life. He had it all planned out - everything would go according to plan. Unfortunately for him, he didn't factor in an extremely annoying American who seemed set on ruining his life. Bloody hell.
1. Roommates Are Great

**Roommates Are Great**

* * *

This was the start of his life. Arthur Kirkland didn't pay any attention to the jibes of his brothers as the family drove to World University. He supposed his mum just trying to be nice, bringing the whole family along as a means of support for this next big step. She wouldn't be scheming and trying to get him to stay in uni and not drop out like Angus his older brother had done. Of course not.

"I'm supposed to be playing Mario Kart with Raivis," Peter whined. Arthur's shoulder had been subject to sharp jabs ever since they left the house. His younger brother's fingers were like bloody knifes, for godsake! "You jerk, your success isn't worth this!"

"Poor Artie's probably upset that he didn't get into Oxford or Cambridge," Angus scoffed.

"Bullshit," Arthur snapped. World University was prestigious in its own right. It was known for being a melting pot of diversities and it offered him exactly what he wanted. Nobody was surprised to hear he would study English. Why would he be annoyed in any way?

His mother tsk-ed at him from behind the wheel and muttered about Peter being too young for that kind of language (as if – at ten, he had heard all the swears of the day) and adjusted her glasses. This was normal in the Kirkland family. Everyone was used to how things went. Arthur couldn't say that he wouldn't miss it, but he wasn't exactly sad to leave it all behind.

He had been smart. Right after he got his acceptance letter he had gone flat hunting with his dad – he didn't want to stay in the dormitories of any university, not after hearing Angus' horror stories that most likely weren't to be believed and anyway, he liked the idea of more space – and found a nice place that was pretty close to the school. Someone else would be living in the same flat with him, but he didn't mind. It made it all the more affordable for him so there were no complaints on his part.

The car pulled into the car park of the complex and he practically leapt from the car. Erin and Eoghan kicked his two suitcases onto the ground when he opened the boot and didn't spare him a second glance. They were obviously going to miss him. He hoped his teapot hadn't been damaged.

"Do you want us to walk you to your flat, dear?" his mother fussed. "We can settle you in if you like? I'll make you a nice cuppa and help you unpack some of your things."

"I'm fine, mum," he grimaced. He hadn't been looking forward to saying goodbye in the slightest; not because he didn't want to leave them but because of Rosie Kirkland's high flying emotions and the tears that were sure to come. Even though Peter was begging for a McDonald's from the car and Angus was growling at him that he had better shut up, his mum dabbed at her eyes with a tissue and fretted about him being alone. He felt like he was in a clichéd movie or something.

"You're still a baby in my eyes!" He was nineteen. "Oh, you'll never manage to look after yourself." He had been ironing his clothes since he was fifteen and he never saw any fault in his cooking, despite what others had to say. "There's really no need for you to move." As if he was getting the train every day at stupid times in the morning! "You must call every now and then, entertain this old woman and let me know you're alright. I do worry about you, Arthur."

"Bloody hell mum, I'm not going to war!" he sighed exasperatedly. "I'm _fine_, I'm not Angus. Now will you leave, for crying out loud, I want to go and get settled in. I'll call you later, yes, I'm sure the flat won't have burned down in the space of a few hours and I won't have turned to drug dealing to cover the rent." Arthur ignored her protests, grabbed his suitcases, gave his mum a swift peck on the cheek and walked in the direction of the landlord's office.

"Goodbye, ickle Artie-kins!" Angus mock sobbed from the car.

Arthur didn't look back and resisted the urge to flip the bastard off.

* * *

Yao Wang had handed over the keys to flat 21 with a grin and wished him good luck with his studies. After lugging his suitcases up the stairs, he dropped them to the ground and fumbled with the keys. This wasn't the nicest flat he had seen when he was searching about, but he had liked it well enough. Muffled sounds coming from inside made him think that his roommate had probably already moved in.

The stench of stale pizza, sweat and other things he didn't want to identify hit him like a fucking wrecking ball and he almost choked. Inside was illuminated by the glow of the TV screen – blinds drawn – and there were abandoned cardboard boxes thrown all here and there across the floor. So that explained the smell of pizza. It was enough to make him never want to eat pizza again.

A lump was parked in front of the TV. The lump seemed to be a person wrapped in a duvet. "Hello?" he said warily. The lump shuffled slightly. "Are you –"

He didn't get a chance to answer as someone moved at the speed of light, yanked him into the building and slammed the door shut. A tall boy with blonde hair and a weird cowlick blocked the door and breathed heavily. His glasses had slipped down his nose and sat crooked. "What the fuck?" Arthur snapped. "What do you think you're doing, you jackass! Let me get my things!"

"They're out there, dude," the boy panted. "I'm saving you!" Oh for Christ's sake, Arthur didn't know he would be living with an American with mental issues. He was being squished against the door and he did not like it at all. He tried his best to push the other boy away, but he was much bigger than himself (Arthur reckoned he just passed his shoulder in terms of height) and quite a bit heavier, judging by the effort he had to put into shifting the American just a few centimetres.

"My bloody _things_ are out there! Get out of the way, lunkhead."

"The zombies, man. I'm telling you. This world is doomed! Forget your damn things, possessions don't matter in the zombie apocalypse! Keep your head about you and you'll survive. See how calm I am? I'll be the hero in this fucked up world!" He could have fooled Arthur. There were tell-tale purple rings under his eyes and his hair was sticking to his head, except for that one rogue strand that stood up like an aerial receiving an alien transmission. Obviously he had been under that duvet for a while.

But it wouldn't be a good idea to upset the idiot, no. So Arthur would be the picture of serenity if it meant he could get the high hell out of there and find somewhere else to live, last week in August be damned. "Good idea. Look, I have some things that could be useful in my bag. How about you let me get them and we'll work through this together?"

The living room light suddenly flickered on and the dolt jumped for the duvet with a strangled yell. "Zombie! Don't eat my brain!"

Arthur doubted he would suffer from the loss of his brain. Arthur doubted he possessed one in the first place.

"Alfred-san, you're out of tea." An Asian boy paced quietly over to Arthur and gave a small bow. He had a cup of tea in his hands and it reminded Arthur of the box he had brought specially in his bag. "You must be Alfred-san's roommate. I am Kiku Honda, it is very nice to meet you."

"Arthur Kirkland. You don't live here, do you?" Arthur was becoming more and more confused. It was only supposed to be him and this Alfred living here, so why was someone else here and why was he acting as if the quivering blob on the floor was normal?

The shorter boy took a seat on the scuffed corner sofa. "I live two doors down. Alfred-san and I both do aerospace engineering." Aerospace engineering was pretty impressive, he had to admit. So it would seem this guy had to be reasonably smart to be able to do something like that. That was just Arthur's view on it; he could barely add two and two. Maths and physics flew right over his head. "Maybe lending him my newest game was a mistake…" Kiku muttered.

Alfred was still whimpering about zombies underneath his fluffy shield. Red letters flashed on the screen in what Arthur figured was some Asian language and Kiku sipped his tea calmly. "Is he okay?" Arthur asked. He'd never seen a grown man cower like that. Well, nearly grown.

"I don't think he's slept in forty eight hours." That answered that, then. "He's tired himself out, though. Alfred-san has always been like this for as long as I've known him. He'll just sleep here and he'll be okay." As if to prove his point, soft snores rumbled from within the duvet.

If Kiku was used to this then Arthur didn't like the thought of having to get used to an idiot living with him. He'd lived with Angus for all his life and now he wanted some peace. Alfred repeatedly scaring himself shitless with horror games wasn't peace if it made him like this! This wasn't how he pictured the beginning of his life at all! But he collected his belongings from outside the door, now that he was free to go outside, and resigned himself to unpacking once Kiku left. He guessed he could make the best of things. Anyway, he heard there was a great library on campus. Maybe he could find himself a comfy shelf and live with the books.

* * *

Alfred tore the duvet away and tried to remember what he was doing before he fell asleep. He vaguely remembered shutting off all lights, placing out all the knives in the kitchen and maybe yelling about zombies… The flashing red letters on the TV screen reminded him that he had been playing one of Kiku's superfuckingassterrifying games. He'd figured it was game over when that zombie had jumped on him and chewed on his brains. Oh yeah, and his new roommate had moved in, hadn't they? Shit, he hoped he hadn't done anything weird!

The blinds and windows were open and the sun was shining through, which wasn't how he had left it. Pictures of flowers and landscapes and other girly crap were hanging on the walls. He should probably tell whoever he was living with that he was okay with a feminine touch but he didn't want to feel like he was living in an advertisement for Sylvanian Families. And he couldn't think of what his new roommate looked like either… It'd be a nice bonus if she was hot. The pizza was gone too, even though he wasn't finished eating.

He stretched himself and was grateful that he hadn't neglected to wear any trousers. He wouldn't make a good first impression in his boxers. Unless she was into that. He padded into the kitchen, planning on making himself a mug of coffee to wake himself up and found something he didn't expect.

There was a boy with choppy blonde hair, eyebrows that looked almost sentient and a scowl that seemed pretty comfortable on his face standing by the kettle. Oh. How friendly. And not a hot girl after all… Though the clock was telling him that the time was barely past eight, so maybe his new roommate wasn't a morning person. "Yo! I'm Alfred Jones, nice to meetcha." Ever the totally awesome hero type character that everyone instantly loved that he was, Alfred stuck out his hand and flashed his winning grin as a gesture of friendship.

"Nice to _meet you_. If you ever flip out and try to convince me it's the goddamn zombie apocalypse again, I will knock you for six," the stranger replied in a crisp English accent. He sounded kind of snooty to Alfred and he didn't even look at him when he talked, as if the tea he was making was his number one commitment.

"Ah?"

"Arthur Kirkland; I have no intention of making friends with a manchild like you." And with that amicable note, Arthur left the kitchen and Alfred felt somewhat ruffled. What a jerk! Okay, so obviously he hadn't made the best first impression on this Arthur and it seemed like he wasn't one to let bygones be bygones, but Alfred was a nice guy. In fact, he was proud of his general loveableness. And he wasn't even an asshole about it. He got on with everyone – that's how it had always been. This Artie would come round to him eventually; all it would take was a bit of the old Jones charm.

"Look, Artie," he started, following the boy into the living room. It was weird to think a boy had put up the feminine decorations… There was even a bowl of the things that made the room smell nice in the centre of the coffee table. "I'm sorry if I was weird or somethin' at first, but I swear I don't do that a lot! Anyway, since we're living in the same house and all I'd really like for us to be friends. You seem like an interesting guy and I don't mind if you want to decorate the place all frou-frou like this if you don't go overboard. How 'bout we start over again?"

'_Oh, Alfred. You are a real charmer,'_ the American complimented himself.

Yeah, Artie would so go for that. Who wouldn't?

"My name is _Arthur_, not Artie. And I haven't made the place look 'all frou-frou'!" Irritation sparked in the English boy's eyes as he mocked Alfred with his air quotes. "I've just added a few homely touches. Just because you'd rather leave old pizza everywhere so the place smells like something came here to curl up, die and rot all over the fucking place, and you have some crippling allergy to light when you're playing your stupid games, and you think it's okay to leave your dishes in the sink for the bloody housework fairy to come along and clean – _because they won't clean themselves, Alfred_ – doesn't make my adjustments _frou-frou_! Grow up and come back to me, then perhaps we can start over."

"Dude, someone has shoved a stick so far up your ass I can't hear anything past your choking."

The caterpillars residing above those bright green eyes slunk together as Arthur glared. Alfred swore those things were watching him… The English boy grumbled and Alfred didn't even care about whatever weird English insult had been tossed in his direction. He had been wanting coffee earlier and it was probably best if he drank it in his bedroom to erase the temptation of dousing the stupid paintings that he didn't even want in his living space any more in the hot beverage. He turned heel towards the kitchen, Arthur harrumphing himself down onto the sofa.

Fine. Artie didn't want to be friends. Artie was probably a coddled mummy's boy who grew up arranging flowers. Artie's eyebrows were straight up the fuzziest things he'd ever seen. Artie was a dick. Fine.

Artie was the first person he'd come across who didn't like him. Fine. They didn't have to like each other, they just had to live with each other.

This would be such a great year.

* * *

**Hi :D Exams are over and I'm back to writing again! This idea has been floating around in my head for the past few months and I think I can have a lot of fun with this story and write in a lot more character than I've done before. Might even bump it up to an M at some point... I probably won't update on a regular schedule as I seem to have acquired a life this summer, but I think I can try for bi-weekly. I'm taking my time with this one. Because I wasn't doing that before or anything.**

**Let me know what you think! I'd be really grateful. Another thing – I now have tumblr. My URL is motherfucking-super-panda, so go bug me there ;)**

**I'll see you when I see you.**


	2. It's a Hard-Knock Life

**Chapter Two – It's a Hard-Knock Life**

* * *

"You haven't got what we're looking for right now."

"Unfortunately we're not hiring at the moment."

"Why don't you give me your number? I'll give you a call as soon as there's an opening."

The same answers repeated again and again in a stupid cycle as Arthur trudged around town looking for a job. Rent wasn't going to appear from thin air – he need money and it was getting to the point where he though he actually would turn to drug dealing just for some kind of income. Even with a reasonable amount to pay every month, he was going to need to work for it.

His feet were killing him. The morning had started out fine: breakfast was toast washed down with a mug of piping hot tea, no Alfred to ruin his optimistic mood, and after circling a few ads in the paper it was time to hunt that job down. After each let down his heart slowly sank until it dragged behind him like a reluctant toddler. He had tried every corner store, supermarket, café, clothes store, anything he could think of and none of them had a job for him. Although he suspected that one clothes store rejected him purely on aesthetics. It wasn't his fault if his hair refused to do anything but explode and he rather liked the argyle sweater he had donned. That manager was just shallow!

The tea he had bought from the last café he tried made him feel a little better. He did have enough stored away to keep up with payments for a couple of months and he was bound to find something in that time, right? But he had definitely had his fill today of searching for today. Walking around town wasn't all that fun.

When he finally made it up the stairs he was ready to crawl into bed and die (he should probably go to the gym if climbing the stairs tired him out). He was looking forward to the sweet embrace of sleep and he was going to kill Alfred if he did anything to wake him up.

Unfortunately he couldn't tear him limb from limb in front of guests. Kiku and two others sat with Alfred around the coffee table. Discarded chocolate bar wrappers, crisp packets and other junk littered the table. Arthur lamented the clean state the room had been in when he left that morning.

Alfred had a lot of gaming platforms stored under the little table the TV sat on, he noticed. They were in the middle of a game when Arthur opened the door and Alfred was being very vocal about a loss. Kiku sat there with a calm expression, not listening to his friend's complaints; Arthur decided he liked Kiku quite a lot, not just because they apparently shared the same appreciation for tea.

"Artie!" Alfred whined, drawing the name out. Arthur clearly remembered instructing him not to call him that.

"Arthur," he reminded him.

If there was anyone on the face of the planet who could understand Alfred's next sentence, they deserved the biggest gold star there was. It must have been harder to crack than the Enigma code.

He turned his attention to the people next to Kiku because he had no idea to respond to that. From the corner of his eye, he saw Alfred crawl onto the couch and cross his arms huffily. _Childish prick_, Arthur thought.

There was a happy looking girl with auburn hair tied up in a ponytail, who Arthur suspected could vomit sunshine and rainbows. She bounced from her place and grabbed Arthur's hand, which she shook vigorously as she introduced herself. He felt himself blushing; she was quite cute. The joyful expression she had and her diminutive build made her very endearing.

Oddly, she possessed a weird amount of strength for her short stature. Arthur winced as she held on for dear life.

A curious curl springing from her hair wagged like a dog's tail with her exaggerated movements. "Hi there! I'm Feliciana Vargas, I share a flat downstairs with my sister. You go to World University too, don't you? Great! Ve~ I want to be a chef! You look smart, I bet you're going to be a rocket scientist or something! I'd be too scared to go to space – you know that if you get trapped out there, your eyeballs boil and your head explodes! Ve…"

"I'm Arthur?" The English boy was completely astounded by how quickly Feliciana spoke and how little she breathed. She had a verbal tic, too, along with an accent that told Arthur that she was Italian. But he couldn't bring himself to dislike the girl when she came across as so genuinely friendly. "And I'm studying English, not rocket science. I'm not a scientist at all."

"Oh!" Feliciana gasped like she had forgotten something hugely important. The blonde boy (hair perfectly slicked back with probably a whole tub of wax) who had been sitting all the while Feliciana chirped on directed his eyes to the heavens as the small girl hugged him enthusiastically. "This is Luddy – I mean, Ludwig Bell – Bell…"

"Beilschmidt," Ludwig helped her along. German, by the name and accent.

"Right!" the Italian said happily. "Luddy lives beside me. He looks smart too, but he doesn't want to be a rocket scientist either. I thought he was super scary when I moved in but he's not scary at all, ve!"

Ludwig peeled his attacker from his arm (grimacing and blushing, the latter more). He stood up to shake Arthur's hand too, thankfully with a normal amount of force, and Arthur nearly flinched. It wasn't so much his height that Arthur found intimidating – there wasn't a drastic difference there – but his build. If someone tried to break a slab of concrete against Ludwig's broad back, they would most likely succeed and Ludwig probably wouldn't feel a thing. He gulped and gave his own nervous smile back. Ludwig was what Angus would call 'fuck-off big'.

He really should go to the gym and try to bulk up a little bit. It looked like even Feliciana would beat him in an arm wrestling match.

* * *

Despite whatever reservations he may have had about Feliciana and Ludwig, they overall seemed to be good people. Arthur found himself pulled in by the Italian's boundless energy and learned a lot as he listened: Ludwig was studying law and his older brother was studying there too – the amount of studying done by the latter was debatable. Ludwig wasn't even sure what his brother was supposed to be studying. They had both moved over from Germany (he missed home a little); Ludwig because he believed travelling would broaden his horizons, his brother because he wanted to see what party prospects England offered.

On the other hand, Feliciana had lived in the area since she was ten and her sister eleven. Both were aiming to become chefs in order to take over their grandfather's restaurant some day. Feliciana also thought her sister had been a little grumpy this morning. At the mention of that, Kiku snorted into his tea and Ludwig stared at Feliciana as if she had just suggested a lobotomy would be a little painful.

Kiku and Alfred had been neighbours and firm friends for years and they had both travelled from the states. Arthur didn't know which surprised him most: the fact that Kiku could stand that oaf's company for all those years or that people really were coming from all corners of the world to study here.

Probably deciding that he wanted some attention, from Arthur's viewpoint, Alfred moved over to the table they were all sitting around. He seemed to have forgotten his defeat and was smiling like a child who had a secret he was bursting to tell. "Kiku, you wanna go again?" He waved a controller in front of Kiku's face. When the Japanese boy politely declined, he looked disappointed and Arthur _swore_ he saw puppy dog eyes behind those askew glasses. But he didn't pursue it, instead joining in with the conversation. "Yo Artie, you haven't told us anything about yourself yet." He didn't remember Alfred being included, and who was the American to say that? He hadn't spoken a word for the past twenty minutes. "What's your story?"

(The weird thing was that Alfred did look genuinely interested, the way he looked at him – inquisitive child – with his glass blue eyes. But that was a trick of the light.)

"Oh, there's not much to tell," he began. He had no interesting scars, no near death experiences. Arthur was rather afflicted with being completely and utterly uninteresting. "I'm studying to become an English teacher… Er, I have a sister and four brothers. I grew up in London. And I came here because… Well, I suppose I just did. That's that."

"Did you ever meet JK Rowling?" Alfred leaned across the table expectantly. Whether he was being serious or trying to be funny, Arthur couldn't tell.

"We shop in the same supermarket, I often bump into her when I'm buying broccoli," he sniped. It was a stupid question anyway. As if _he_ knew JK Rowling!

Alfred's face fell into a pout, lips pursed and eyebrows furrowed. "Just askin'," he grumbled. "You don't have to be such an asshole about everything. Jesus Christ, take a fucking joke will ya? You'll never be a decent teacher if you don't have a sense of humour."

The others sitting between the glaring pair shifted uncomfortably. "Harry Potter is my favourite series even though Voldemort was scary…" Feliciana tried weakly, only to be ignored.

"For your information, I do have a sense of humour. And anyway, I don't _need_ humour to teach. I'm not there to make friends, I am there to do my damn job and teach," Arthur growled. "Most likely my students will be more intelligent than you and appreciate that fact."

"Woah, Artie, where did _you_ go to school? Is that what it's like in England? Kids aren't gonna do shit for you if that's what you're like! Get out of the nineteenth century and into the twenty first! You need to build a relationship with them, let them enjoy classes; not take that stick from your ass every now and then and beat them with it!"

This was getting ridiculous and Arthur wanted to go make a nice cup of tea so he could calm down. He looked stupid in front of these people who could have been his friends but now appeared to have a strong desire to leave and if possible avoid flat 21 at all costs from now on. Ludwig was staring at the door as if it was his long lost lover and Feliciana was ticking fretfully. This certainly wasn't how a gentleman was supposed to act in front of a lady – yes, he did have a sense of chivalry. He couldn't really tell what Kiku was thinking (could anyone?) but he probably wanted to leave too. The English boy was horribly embarrassed. He felt his cheeks burn hot pink and it was all Alfred's stupid fault.

"Thank you for telling me how to do a job that I am training for, Alfred. Goodness me, I was going wrong in _so_ many ways! You've opened my eyes, you really have. I guess I'll go apply for a position right now and they'll give me the job on the spot because they'll just be so amazed that I was told how to teach by _Alfred fucking Jones_!"

"Well at least then you'd _have_ a freaking job," Alfred hissed. "You left the paper sitting on the kitchen table."

In that moment, Feliciana had a small epiphany which solved multiple problems for Arthur, the biggest one of the moment being the current feud. He would be forever in the Italian's debt. "Hey, I can get you a job! Ve~ I'll ask grandpa to give you a job in the restaurant. The pay is pretty good and everyone else that works there is super nice. And you can meet my big sister too~!"

Still with a frown marring his face, Alfred channelled his inner five year old and crossed his arms haughtily. He was too sensitive, Arthur decided. He was still a brat.

Arthur was willing to drop the whole dispute if he could get a job, any job at all. Hell, he would take sweeping the streets if it could provide him with some wage. Rent was important, but there were things he couldn't live without, like tea, herbal tea, baking and tea. Money was required for all that too. "If there's a position –"

"Come to the restaurant this evening around six, okay?" Feliciana cut him off. "We'll give you a trial run and if you do well, you'll definitely get the job! I'll give you my… Oh. I've forgotten my phone. Give me a minute!"

The English boy thanked her, watching in amusement as she dashed out the door in a fluster. He had never worked in a restaurant before, but being a waiter couldn't be that difficult. Taking orders, carrying plates, being nice to people. He could do all that. He'd get this job and then buy all the tea he could ever want in celebration.

* * *

This was the restaurant, he could tell without double checking the directions Feliciana had sent him. He was very optimistic about his prospects as he stood in front of the large stone building. _Casa Vargas_, read the italic letters above the doorway. A respectable establishment, and popular too even though it was in the less populated area of the town. People wandered in and out, families and couples. Arthur could hear music playing from within. Yeah, this would be a nice place to work. He was looking forward to it.

"Are you Arthur?" A girl who looked a lot like Feliciana but with chocolate tresses, hazel green eyes, a rebellious curl and a very disgruntled expression stomped out of the front doors. Feliciana's grumpy older sister, he guessed.

"Yes, Fel –"

"I really couldn't give a shit about Feliciana sending you here for a job. Just get your ass in there so I can decide whether you're worth my nonno's money." The Vargas sisters apparently had a habit of speaking over others, but it looked like that was all they had in common. Maybe this is what people meant when they said Italian women were feisty? Arthur didn't want to get in an argument with her ever. "Nonno isn't here so I'll be the one deciding whether you get the job or not."

Well, wasn't that just bloody marvellous?

_Casa Vargas'_ interior was very beautiful indeed. The first thing Arthur noticed was the delicious smell of all kinds of amazing dishes wafting from the kitchen doors at the back of the room (even though he preferred a good roast dinner above anything else, he admitted that he would love to try some food from here).

The stone walls were left unpainted, but the pizza kiln placed near the door and all the pictures of what must have been the Vargas family and the restaurant throughout the years made the building feel warm and happy. Waiters flitted from table to table, attending to the customers. He liked the uniform too. Now he really wanted a job here; it was much better than all the cramped cafés and overly ostentatious restaurants he had been in earlier.

"Arthur!" Feliciana emerged from the kitchen and skipped over to him. Did she ever just walk? "You met my big sister, ve~!" The older girl's eyes rolled towards the ceiling as Feliciana dangled off her arm, but she didn't protest. "Come into the kitchen; I'll introduce you to people and get you a uniform."

Despite Feliciana's easy-going nature, it was clear to see that she had her head about her when it came to the restaurant. Arthur didn't expect it, but all the while as she dragged him in a random pattern through the room she checked up on customers, making sure their food was perfect and that they had everything they wanted. She made people smile. Even the older sister, who Arthur thought was rather foul so far, managed to raise the corners of her mouth in an attempt to please the customers. If those two could manage it, he was sure that he could too.

The kitchen he was swept into was an assault of aromas. Others ran to and fro carrying plates, yelling orders, wrapped up in their own busy schedules. "This is our head chef, Michelle." The young woman that Feliciana had pointed to looked up briefly and nodded, her brown eyes smiling. Arthur supposed that she was too busy to do any more than that.

She named other people as she directed him to the back of the large room, though he knew he'd never remember everyone: Roderich (he had a funny cowlick that reminded him of Alfred), a baby-faced boy named Tino, Berwald, who was a terrifying character Arthur found even more intimidating than Ludwig (at least Ludwig had actually smiled), and someone called Antonio who was very fond of the older Vargas sister who turned out to be called Lovina. Lovina did not reciprocate. All other names slipped his mind, but he'd get to know them as he worked. Because he was definitely getting this job.

Failure was not an option.

A uniform was shoved into his arms: black trousers, white shirt and wine waistcoat with _Casa Vargas_ embroidered on the breast pocket. There was a black apron that Arthur didn't see the point of, but he'd wear it if he had to.

"Get changed quickly," Lovina instructed him. Feliciana had disappeared to help with serving dishes. "You'll be working from now until half nine or later, depending on how busy we are. I don't really like you, so you had better dazzle the fuck outta me or you'll be gone before you can stop to scratch your Neanderthal head with your ape hands. _Capisci_?" Struck dumb by her sudden announcement that she didn't like him – what the hell had he even done? – he gaped like a goldfish. With a scoff, the Italian stalked off. _Back to her spot down in hell,_ he thought rancorously. _Right next to Satan_.

Someone laughed in his ear and a tanned arm was strewn over his shoulder. "Don't worry about Lovina! When she insults you it means that she likes you~ She just doesn't know how to say it." It was Antonio, from earlier. His mossy eyes danced as he watched the brunette from afar. Obviously a love struck fool, with most of the striking done by the female in question.

"You're joking, right?" he choked. "She's a cold-hearted bitch."

The smile slid from Antonio's face like ice-cream dripping down the side of a bowl. It fell away completely and his eyes hardened. They shifted from Lovina to Arthur. His arm left Arthur's shoulder and the English boy felt cold. "Well, you don't know her. I know that she wasn't so friendly to you, but that's how she is. Don't speak badly of her, okay?"

Antonio didn't look like he was all that fond of Arthur either as he walked out of the kitchen. Arthur started when he was poked in the back. The head chef, Michelle, was grinning at him and holding a laden plate. "He's right about Lovina, you know," she informed him. "But it looks like you've managed to piss off Antonio the Ever-Happy. Good job. I suppose someone should have warned you about how protective he is of her, though God knows she can look after herself."

"I barely spoke a word to her and she's already decided that she doesn't like me," Arthur complained. He didn't like whining, but it hardly seemed fair.

Michelle just laughed at him, which annoyed him. She couldn't take him seriously? "Don't worry about her, Eyebrows. Just do a good job. And good luck for tonight. Table eight."

Eyebrows? The nerve! How could she like it if he named her after her most prominent feature? _Pigtails._

But Arthur was an English gent. He grabbed the plate (hot!) and tried not to drop it. Whatever, Lovina liking him wasn't a requirement. Pigtails was right. Standing up straight with a winning smile to please the customers, he made his way to table eight. One plate safely delivered. Hopefully not that much to go.

* * *

Arthur got home closer to eleven than ten – the restaurant had been extremely busy after all. He'd never wanted to sit down so badly in all his life and he almost gave up, resigning to sleeping on the pavement when he realised he had to walk home.

But he didn't do that. Though his feet ached like the soles were bleeding and his legs were as weighty as two hulking blocks of concrete, he struggled home and nearly cried with sheer happiness when he stumbled through the door. The sofa was his best friend. He collapsed on the aged cushions and grabbed the remote. Bed could wait; he just needed to rest for a while. Even though his room was only a few footsteps away.

He had the job. Lovina was all bark and no bite, regardless of her threats, just like Michelle had told him. She was satisfied by his performance and his next shift was tomorrow, same time. Now he was starting to think that he didn't want the job so much, but mostly he was grateful that he would have a source of money.

Arthur was too tired to bother changing the channel when the screen blinked to life. Some comedy show was on – he liked this comedian. What was his name again? Oh, it didn't matter. He was funny anyway. Titters of tired laughter and mumbling giggles came out involuntarily. Soon he was too distracted by the TV to notice Alfred ambling into the room.

"I guess you do have a sense of humour," he observed. The American sat at the opposite end of the sofa, curling his long legs up beside him. He didn't look at Arthur. "What is this?"

Arthur had remembered the lost name. "Russell Howard," he breathed sleepily.

They sat in silence occasionally broken by a snort or shared snicker until the end credits rolled. Alfred moved his blue gaze to the English boy, who was still piled in the same position. It was starting to get uncomfortable. "Did you get the job?" Alfred questioned him softly.

"Yes."

"I'm glad." It sounded a bit like an apology. Arthur didn't care. It was good.

* * *

**I have no idea if waiters receive some kind of training before they start working, but never mind. Let's just leave it as the Vargas' doing shit their own way.**

**Nyotalia characters appeared! I really love the genderbent counterparts to characters, though I deliberated a bit as to whether or not they should be included. I don't know what you guys think of them, so I'm curious. Good choice or not? Should I include more? The cast has yet to be expanded~**

**Another thing – I'm not a university student and I have no idea what university life is like, so I won't be delving too deeply into that. But if anyone wants to point out important things or if I get anything wrong, then I'd be really grateful for your help.**

**You can follow me on tumblr! I am motherfucking-super-panda :D You can ask me questions and stuff and I might put up side stories to this every so often (though they'll be pretty short, which is why I won't put them up here). Could I resist the Spamano? Of course there'll be more pairings than USUK in this! I might put up a few sketches of the apartment too, even though my drawing skills are sub-par at best.**

**Let me know your thoughts, please :3 Until next time~**


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